Draco Goes Broke
by mickey
Summary: ...And moves into the Burrow. And wears Ron's lacy dress robes...and gets a little more than he bargained for than a free room.


Draco Goes Broke  
  
  
  
Summary: From Ginny's PoV, Draco moves into the Burrow. And wears Ron's lacy dress robes...and gets a little more than he bargained for than a free room.  
  
Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine, I'd market it properly. No video or computer games since they defeat the entire purpose of the books. Although, it might be kewl to have one with an actual broomstick where you played quidditch in this 3-D reality....er...what I'm trying to say is that JKR owns Harry Potter and all the characters in this story. I really didn't want to create my own. Call me lazy, but at least this isn't a Mary Sue.  
  
A/N: My apologizes beforehand for my lack in grammar. I am currently beta- less. And for the fact that I'm unfamiliar with proper British slang. This probably sounds too Americanish. *shrugs* There really isn't much I can do, so if you can suffer through those minor flaws without too much anger I'd be eternally grateful. So here is without further ado, le premier chapter:  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: Enter Stage Left  
  
  
  
  
  
It's one of those days where it's hot enough that you could fry an egg on the street. The kind where in the shade it's still a stifling 105 degrees Fahrenheit and no matter how many cooling charms you can think up, you can't help, but wish you were a Muggle. At least they understand the need for air conditioning properly.  
  
Dad had been going on about the concept of such ventilation with insights about the ingeniousness of it all in such an invention. Mum insisted that there was no way even if we were living above a volcano filled with boiling lava that we'd invest in an air conditioning system. She claimed that it was for environmental reasons.  
  
All I wished was that dad would quit babbling because the idea of air conditioning was only making me sweat more. 'Stupid pride, stupid muggles, stupid heat spell.' I got up slowly from my seat at the table, but not before noticing a section in the Daily Prophet.  
  
"Mum, did you see? They printed that advertisement!"  
  
Sure enough in the classified section there was a small notice.  
  
  
  
*Room To Rent*  
  
Cozy, with a bathroom, 5 galleons/month, includes meals. Contact Molly Weasley  
  
  
  
Percy had just moved out, claiming that he needed his own space and with his promotion could afford to rent a small apartment. Everyone thinks he was just getting sick of the twins, and the whole noisy household. I personally think that something's up. I bet he's having some secret love affair with his secretary.  
  
But that's beside the point. The point is that with Percy gone we had a spare room- for once. Mum came up with this brilliant idea of renting it out to pick up some spare change for our books next year. She said if I'm good she might buy me an owl with the money.  
  
Mum glanced up from the kitchen stove, where she had been laboring over dinner. She frowned. "They did? And I asked them not to print it!" She resumed her cooking, muttering about how unreliable the Prophet was.  
  
Dad and I both exchanged puzzled glances. "Now, dear, why would you do that?" He was giving her this wary look. Mom didn't notice: she was still waving her hand wildly, stirring the soup on the stove while with her other she had the knives cutting carrots and tomatoes into small slices. Boiling soup on a burning hot day. I groaned inwardly. Hadn't she heard of smoothies?  
  
"I found someone to rent it."  
  
Dad jumped up. "Well that's great! Why didn't you tell us?"  
  
She didn't answer. She shot a sideways glance at me. I could tell she didn't want me here, but this was beginning to get interesting. I leaned back against my chair, arms folded stubbornly, pretending that I hadn't seen her silent plea.  
  
"It's a bit of a situation..." she began slowly. "I had someone inquire about the room, but about payment....they weren't sure if they'd be able to make the first few ones-"  
  
"Well, you know that kind of defeats the purpose," said Dad slowly, eyeing her suspiciously. I couldn't blame him. Mom wouldn't be all worked up with taking someone in. We'd done it before with many of my brothers' friends.  
  
"I told the person that they could have the room for the first few months free of charge, they could pay at a later date." She was speaking slowly, carefully, lacking the usual strength and energy.  
  
"Even though that's not the idea we had in mind. It's not a problem. So, who's this new boarder?"  
  
Mom had stopped cooking, and she turned to face Dad and I. Her chin was elevated slightly, but it didn't make her appear intimidating. She was still rather small. She took a deep breath.  
  
"Nacrissa Malfoy."  
  
I don't think Dad nor I said anything for a while. Nacrissa Malfoy wanted to rent a room free of charge in the Burrow? I vaguely remembered her: she was the complete opposite of my Mom. Tall, elegant, cold, and above all...rich. I could still picture those fancy robes, those elaborate necklace glittered with semi-precious metals galore.  
  
"Why does she want to stay here?"  
  
Dad had somehow remained calm enough to ask this.  
  
"The room's not for her." She paused, and gave my Dad and me a weak smile, a very weak smile. "It's for her son, Draco."  
  
I began choking, even though I wasn't drinking or eating anything. I guess I was choking on air. Cause suddenly I felt like I couldn't breathe. Draco Malfoy- here?!  
  
"Molly, how can you do this? Allowing someone to stay here free of charge is not a problem, but the richest wizarding family in all of England? The Malfoys? You know Lucius and I have never gotten along! Why would they need a room in the first place? What happened to that awful Manor of theirs?"  
  
I think it was then that Fred, George, and Ron walked in, broomsticks in hand. They had been playing quidditch. Don't ask me why, I personally think they're insane, but no heat spell could stop them from ditching chores to get all sweaty and sticky on wooden sticks.  
  
"Boy, do we ever have great timing, huh, Fred?" George grinned.  
  
I glared. "I wouldn't be laughing if I were you."  
  
"And why not?" asked Fred with an identical grin. I shot a glance at Dad who read my mind.  
  
"Boys," he began angrily. "Your mother has an announcement to make-"  
  
"Really, Arthur-"  
  
"We'll be having a guest for an undeterminable period of time-"  
  
"Arthur, quit being so childish!"  
  
"-by the name of Draco Malfoy."  
  
Uh-oh. The next five minutes was pure hell, there's really no other word to describe it. Insults, accusations, and comments were hurdled around the room. I rolled my eyes. It was people like my family that gave redheads a bad name. Trust me, not all redheads are short-tempered and stubborn. Just a few, namely almost my entire family.  
  
"BE QUIET!"  
  
Mom got everyone's attention quickly enough. "Please, let me explain." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Mom waved at him to be silent. "I was approached the other day by Nacrissa Malfoy. She said she had heard that one of my sons had moved out, and that one of my rooms was going to be available for rent. I told her that was true."  
  
"She then said that she and Lucius were in a bit of a situation. They've gone bankrupt. Everything's gone. The Manor, the bank accounts, I mean everything. They're completely sickle-less. She didn't say what happened, so I didn't bother asking."  
  
"She told me that they had found a place for her and Lucius to stay, but the household does not allow kids."  
  
Mom stopped, her vigor had returned. "So, I did what any sensible person would do. I told her that her son could stay for however long she needed him to be kept there, and that I understood their circumstances."  
  
She caught her breath, and looked around triumphantly.  
  
"How do you know that it's not just a plot? A scheme? I bet they're not even broke!" snapped Ron, his face flushed, and it wasn't just from the heat.  
  
"Maybe it's all part of a master plan with You-Know-Who! Everyone knows Malfoy's a DEIT."  
  
Dad turned to look at George curiously. "A DEIT? What's a DEIT?"  
  
"A Death Eater- In- Training."  
  
Mom shook her head furiously. "That's it. This conversation is over. Draco is coming here on Friday. Everyone is going to be civil with him. I don't care what you think about him and his family. He has no where else to go. And we are not going to turn him away."  
  
There was such finality in her words that Fred, George, and Ron immediately sulked out of the room. I lingered, wanting to hear more, but Mom wouldn't have it this time.  
  
"Isn't there some homework you should be doing, Ginny?"  
  
I thought about telling her I had the rest of the summer to do it, but I decided against it. Instead I walked out of the kitchen to join my brothers at the bottom of the stair-way, leaving Mom to deal with Dad who had yet to warm up to the idea.  
  
My three brothers were sitting glumly at the bottom of the staircase. I couldn't blame them. It was like the whole summer, which had barely started was already over. Or I guess more accurately ruined. But leave it to my brothers to make light out of a bad situation. And I didn't think it could get any worse than this.  
  
"You know," said Fred with a shrug, "maybe having Draco as a house-mate won't be half-bad. Apart from him being a Slytherin."  
  
"And a Malfoy."  
  
"And a complete jerk."  
  
"And a-"  
  
Ron proceeded to use some language that although was explicit, was rather creative.  
  
Fred grinned. "But you see now he isn't going to be flanked by his two goons." His grin grew by an enormous degree. "It's going to be three against one."  
  
"Hey, what about me? Don't I count?"  
  
George laughed. "Sure, Ginny."  
  
I felt insulted. Sure I was a girl. And a year younger than Malfoy. That didn't mean I couldn't stand up against him. I could have a wizard's duel with him; I wasn't scared of that pale faced twerp. I thought about saying that aloud, but before I did Ron suddenly broke out into a fit of hysterics.  
  
"What's so funny?" demanded George.  
  
"It's just if what Mum says is true about the Malfoys being sickle-less. I mean..." He broke off, snorting with laughter. "This will be great," he recomposed himself. "I can't remember how many times he's tormented me about not being rich. And now-"  
  
"-he's poorer than us."  
  
"-he has to live under our roof."  
  
"He's never going to live this down!"  
  
My three brothers had their spirits raised enough that they were almost looking forward to Malfoy's arrival date. I frowned at their joyful behavior as they trotted up the stairs to change before dinner. I thought about going up to see if I could muster up any energy to work on my homework, but with my brothers' noisy prattle gone I could faintly hear my father and mother talking in hushed voices in the kitchen. So, instead I leaned my ear to the doorway so I could hear better.  
  
"I swear I'd rather take in You-Know-Who's son if he had one than Lucius's. Molly, you know how I feel about him. You remember what happened during Ginny's second year, don't you? You and I both know that Lucius planted that diary with her to kill her and the muggle-borns of Hogwarts."  
  
From behind the doorway I could hear Mom lower her voice in a very threatening way. "Well, dear, we're not taking in Lucius, are we?"  
  
I didn't realize until it was too late that she was storming out of the kitchen. Mom opened the door right into my face. Her cheeks were blazing, angrily, but she didn't bother to comment on my apparent eavesdropping. Thank Merlin for that.  
  
"Tell the boys that dinner's almost ready."  
  
I nodded and was racing up the stairs faster than a Firebolt. As I reached the final step to knock on Ron's door, I paused, glancing back down at my mother, who was walking slowly to the den. What had possessed her to open her home- our home- to our biggest rivals? There was no rational explication, and I couldn't help but shudder as I banged loudly on Ron's door. Draco Malfoy living with us. Suddenly I knew we had yet to experience the worst of the summer's heat spell.  
  
********************************************  
  
I hate Fridays. I really do. Especially when it's summer and it hardly gives you anything to look forward to except maybe Malfoy's arrival. I'd almost forgotten about it. Okay, I'm lying, it's been on my mind the past few days. But it's not my fault when my mother made me dust that stupid room at least half a dozen times, change the sheets, wash the windows-  
  
You'd think someone important like Dumbledore was coming instead of just Malfoy. But I guess I understood Mom's point of view. Despite the hard labor I had to do (with some help from magic) I had to admit that I was proud of the room. It really wasn't much to begin with.  
  
It was small with off-white walls and blue sheets on the bed with a couple of pillows. There's a dresser and a small desk. And a closet. But it was sparkling now. Even Percy had never had his room looking this fabulous. I surveyed the room with pride and that was when I heard some commotion from the kitchen.  
  
I took a deep breath, daring a glance at the mirror hung over the dresser. I wondered why I bothered to; it's not like I wanted to impress anyone. Especially not Malfoy. I made my way down the stairs, memories flooding my mind. Of Malfoy insulting Harry's lack of family, of my family's financial status, of my awful crush on the Boy Who Lived.  
  
The rest of my family was already there to greet a woman I vaguely recognized as Nacrissa Malfoy. She wasn't wearing any jewelry though, and the robes she was wearing were too big and an unflattering shade of green. The kind of robe you'd find in the back of the store in the far corner on a sale rack.  
  
Standing next to her was a boy. For a split second all those terrible recollections of Malfoy killing Buckbeak, of his threats, his pranks, and his arrogance vanished. Because that boy was standing there, his hair lacking hair gel, his smirk completely gone, and his robes....he wasn't wearing any.  
  
No- don't get that idea! He was wearing something...something that looked like Muggle clothes. Yep, definitely Muggle clothes, which I imagined, were a lot cheaper than any of his old robes. A very ratty pair of jeans that looked a size too small and a dark gray shirt at least two sizes too big. God, he looked like Oliver Twist. Or Tiny Tim. All he needed was a wooden crutch and he could make millions just sitting on the streets of London. Trust me, he looked that pitiful.  
  
He looked a lot younger in Muggle clothes, and I realized that Hogwarts robes had never done him justice. He should've been a Muggle...he'd looked much better in their style of garments.  
  
Nacrissa was talking to my Mom, thanking her for her kindness. Dad was at work, which was definitely a good think. He'd return in a few hours though, and I'm sure he was going to give Malfoy a rough time.  
  
Ron and the twins were not giving Malfoy death looks for once. They were grinning, obviously finding his clothing amusing. The Muggle-Hater wearing Muggle-Clothes! Fred had been right. Malfoy was never going to live this down.  
  
Nacrissa turned to Mafloy, hugged him briefly, and he pulled away quickly, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. My brothers had the difficult task of attempting to stop their sniggering. "Bye, Draco. Be good," she said softly before kissing him on the forehead. She thanked Mom before disappearing into the fireplace, but not before chanting a name of a really trashy place I've heard of in downtown Hogsmeade. If this was a plot like Ron had said I decided that the Malfoys were playing along really well. Really well.  
  
So, here I was with my family, and Draco standing awkwardly in the kitchen.  
  
"Draco, why don't you go unpack?" offered my Mom. She motioned to a tattered suitcase. I sincerely doubted he had very much to unpack.  
  
"We'll show him where it is!" offered Fred.  
  
"Let us lead the way to Malfoy's new gallant throne room!"  
  
The twins were half-way out the door, before Mom stopped them. "No. Remember you two and Ron have knome duties? Which might I add you've been neglecting to do for the past week?"  
  
"But, Mum...." Whined Ron, putting on his most pitiful face. Fred and George joined them.  
  
She ignored them, turning to me. "Ginny, go show Draco where his room is."  
  
I nodded, giving Malfoy a sideways glance. He picked up the suitcase and followed me, silent all the while. We were beginning to climb the steps when I heard one of my brothers shout:  
  
"Mum, you actually trust Draco around Ginny? I can't believe-"  
  
I flushed crimson. Did anyone think I could take care of myself? I seriously doubted my brothers did. Not since my first year with that awful diary incident. Definitely not a fond memory, although I think Mum has restored some faith in me. Of course the key word there was some.  
  
We had reached the top of the stairs and I led him down the hallway to the second door on the left. I opened it, stepping in and Malfoy followed me like some sort of puppy dog, which is a rather amusing thing to compare Malfoy to. A puppy dog. I smiled at the thought.  
  
I glanced up to see Mafloy glancing at the room. His face was expressionless, and his eyes were unreadable. I waited for him to say something.  
  
"Well?"  
  
He turned his eyes towards me and spoke for the first time since he had arrived. "Well what? Am I supposed to thank you for this gorgeous room fit for a king?" he snapped.  
  
Malfoy threw his suitcase; it hit the far wall with a bang, opening. Clothes flew out and I was nearly knocked out by a pair of socks rolled into a ball. But I was too quick. I dove out of the way, landing rather unceremoniously on the bed. The clothes were zipping around like crazy, like they were alive, like they were bludgers-  
  
I groaned. Like they had been bewtiched by a certain pair of twins. I looked up to see Malfoy dodging a pair of snake boxers. I laughed at the sight of Malfoy being chased by his own underwear. No wonder the twins had wanted to show him his room. They were missing out on so much.  
  
Malfoy ducked to avoid a left shoe and then dove to keep from being hit in the head by his own wand. He landed on the bed, or more accurately on top of me.  
  
I felt the air being forced out of my lungs from his weight. Malfoy's body was still pressed against mine and he seemed to have no intention of moving out of this uncomfortable position. The contents of his suitcase whizzed above us.  
  
"Get off!" I could hear myself snapping, but it was muffled as Malfoy lifted the sheets I had so laboriously made so neat and tidy. With some scrambling I found myself under the covers of the guest bed (I mean Malfoy's bed) with that ferret, hiding from his underwear. Wait, I don't think that came out quite right.  
  
The clothing was still jabbing at our sides and I winced as a shoe struck my shin. Malfoy waited, muttering explicits everytime some article hit him, but he waited patiently until-  
  
"Got'cha!" he grabbed his squirming wand when it poked him in the ribs, and as we huddled under the covers he waved it around.  
  
"Finite Incanteus."  
  
Malfoy pulled the covers off our heads, propping himself up, surveying the now lifeless clothes. He turned to face me and it was then I think he realized that we were together in a bed with most of our bodies hidden under the messed up sheets.  
  
"You'd better get up. I don't think your brothers would be pleased to suddenly walk into my room to see their sister in bed with a Malfoy. As much as I know you wouldn't mind." He was giving me this awful look, a taunting grin, and I blushed at his reference.  
  
I jumped up quickly, nearly tripping on a book. "Well, I'd better leave you to unpack," I stammered trying to muster up any remaining dignity. "Even though I think the twins have already given you a head start."  
  
Malfoy frowned at the mess. There really were clothes everywhere. I walked up to the door way, to only find that the door knob had the pair of snake boxers on it. With the tips of my fingers I picked it up and dropped it on the floor with my nose wrinkled in disgust.  
  
"Nice underwear."  
  
"Thanks," he stated, pushing the sheets out of the way as he picked his wand and began to magically put clothes into the drawers of the dresser. I was only half-way out the door when I heard him. "I'd like to see yours sometime."  
  
I slammed the door in his face and stomped down the hall towards my room. I could hear faint voices from outside, the boys were still deknoming the garden.  
  
I opened the door to my bed, and closed it softly behind me, not wanting to attract any more attention. I leaned against the door-frame before sliding down to the floor where my knees nearly touched my chin.  
  
And so I sat on a summer's day wondering what the hell had just happened and how I was ever going to survive anymore time with Tiny Tim. He hadn't been here for more than ten minutes and already he was ruining my summer vacation.  
  
Stupid Malfoy. Stupid prank. Stupid bankruptcy. Which reminded me.... What had happened to all that monstrous load of galleons the Malfoys had? I knew Mom wasn't very nosy, but that didn't mean I couldn't be a little curious.  
  
I got up and collapsed onto my bed. With all that stomping and running around I had almost forgotten about the heat stroke. I muttered a spell at a stack of papers and they soon began to fan me, blowing hot, stuffy air at me, and blowing Malfoy out of my mind.  
  
Have I mentioned before what I wouldn't give for a proper air conditioning system?  
  
  
  
~La Fin. For now.  
  
  
  
I'll understand your point of view, if you take the time to review!  
  
Ha- I'm a poet! Thanks for reading. The reasons for the Malfoys' new financial status, some visitors, and Draco wearing Ron's lacy robes shall come in Chapter 2: Making Lemonade, if people want to read it.  
  
*Laughs* 'Tis too much fun to torture poor Draco.  
  
Thanks again for taking the time to read. *Salutes* You're too kewl. 


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